no matter how pure,
how nourishing, or how flourishing...

the itch drives me mad as i wait for it to heal...
impatient, i rub it just enough to satisfy it.

i wake up with dried blood crusted over my ankle,
where the scab used to reside...

a wound re-opened is a wound likely to stain, rip, and ruin every innocent thing in its path... i leave you with one word or less.

i stammer into the bathroom, and gather the tools needed.

THE ACHE! THE ACHE!...

i prepare for the procedure and breathe heavily...
with shaky hands i attempt to craft my own suture:
_  _  _

THEY'LL SEE YOU FOR WHAT YOU ARE!...

no assistant at my side, always the lone surgeon.
it bleeds...it bleeds...it bleeds...

a tourniquet, a needle, a thread.
just enough so abandonment doesn't show up at my door.

THE NOISE...THE NOISE...

just enough to heal in time for them to love me...
just enough to forget that seemingly perpetual past...

THEY'LL LEAVE...THEY'LL LEAVE...

THEY ALWAYS DO! THEY ALWAYS DO!...

DON'T SHOW! DON'T TELL! JUST FEEL!

deafening silence, whispered cries, and visible sighs.
NO MORE! NO MORE! NO MORE! . . .

i open my eyes as the sweat falls from my brow...
the blood is no more and my heart is full.

the silence has come and the light floods the bathroom floor...
my hands stop trembling and my heart beats slow.

i stand up and stay there for a moment.
i turn around and walk out...

out and to you.
out and to my love...

for now,
or for forever . . .